


The Softest Killing Blows

by FlygonRider



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Gen, Gender Angst, Genderfluid Character, mentions of dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlygonRider/pseuds/FlygonRider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was 1980, there were over two million words in the English language, and still not one of them could be taken for his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Softest Killing Blows

**Author's Note:**

> A late birthday present for asexual trash on Tumblr. Also, I greatly appreciate criticism, especially since this is my first time writing a nonbinary character.

Thank God there’s nobody on the beach tonight. After the fiasco in the living room, he doesn’t know if he could deal with seeing anyone else. The sand feels too hard, too gritty, and his cape feels too tight. 

He tears it off, wads it into a ball, and throws it into the ocean. He’d do it to the rest of his uniform if he could, do it to his body, finally fix everything that’d been itching and poking and prodding him for years.

“Robin? Is that you?” Of course Starfire would be the one to check in on him. Of course she’d be the only one on speaking terms with him now. He makes a grunting noise and hunches his shoulders in the hope she’ll take the hint and go away to leave him stewing in angst.

And of course, she doesn’t, instead opting to flop down next to him. He wants to shove her away so badly, but she’s gotten the kicked-puppy routine down pat, and he can’t deal with any more guilt right now, so he draws his knees up to his chest instead.

The silence grows between them, turns festering with everything he just knows Starfire wants to ask.

“So?” He asks, his voice too loud, only cut by the breaking waves. “Do you have any questions for me? Like ‘why am I so fucked up?’ Or better yet ‘what the hell is wrong with me?’”

Starfire traces a spiral in the sand, kneading her lip in contemplation. “Not yet. Do you wish to talk about it?”

Not really. To be honest, he’d rather be punching a rock right now. Or some of his teammates faces. He grunts again and flicks away a shell, then wipes off his glove with a grimace. “I will take that as a perhaps?”

“Sure. Whatever; take it however you like.”

“You do need to talk Robin. Otherwise it will eat away at you, and at our team. Please, say something to me, anything.” She runs over and picks up a boulder, setting it down in front of him. “Speak to this rock, if you must.”

He stands up, angry. “God Star, I don’t need fucking rock therapy okay? Just, just, I don’t know.” He kicks at the sand, grimacing, then sits back down.

“What do you want, then? If you do not know what you need.”

“Validation.” The word leaps out of his mouth without his approval. Great, now he sounds like a whiny six-year old who got their toy taken away. Batman didn’t need approval to be Batman, right? But on some level, this problem goes so much deeper. He waits for Starfire to laugh, and when none is forthcoming, turns. She’s looking at him, her head tilted to the side just a little bit.

“Anything else?”

“Somebody else who gets it. Somebody who gets how your body feels like it’s constantly itching, always wrong. How it’s off by just a few degrees, so it drives you completely crazy trying to figure out exactly what’s wrong. Like…like… I don’t even know anymore.”

Starfire topples backwards, looking up at the sky. “May I tell you something Robin?”

He shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. Not like there were any more bombshells she could drop.

“I am not a girl.” 

He’s a little bit shocked, and immediately rushes to correct her. “But that’s ridiculous, of course you’re a girl-“

She silences him with a finger on his lips, then goes back to her original position when she’s sure he won’t open his mouth again. “Shut up Robin, and let me speak.”

That shocks him even more then the declaration that she isn’t a girl (she had long hair and a pretty face and boobs!) and he gapes like a fish. She’s never told him to shut up, ever, at least not in seriousness. But now she’s looking all dark and a little broody and it just looks so wrong on her that he can’t find words to continue.

“When I kissed you, before all this,” She waves her hands vaguely behind her head towards home, then runs them through her bangs, leaving sand behind, “I picked up many different pronouns. He, they, it, she, I was amazed at how many different ways there were to refer to a person. So when all of you referred to me as female, as a girl, I did not say anything. It was so much easier to go along with it, to keep from confusing any of you. But it has grown tiring, to know I am not, and yet still have everyone call me that.” She suddenly sits up and slaps the ground, baring her teeth. “I am not a girl.”

There’s that anger, the one that’s he’s felt inside of himself, time and again. Then it’s gone, and she’s back to normal.

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

She (or would it be they now? He’s not quite sure, and there’s no time to ask) grabs his shoulders. “Robin, do you even realize how difficult of a task it would be to try and explain my gender? I still have a hard time trying to conceive of male and female, and to try and explain the deepest part of myself in human terms, well,” she lets him go and retreats into herself, “it would be impossible.”

“Star-“

“That is quite enough about me.” Her smile is back, the one that would be blinding if it were made of actual light, completely fake underneath a veneer of control. “What about you Robin? Please, tell me your ails, all your troubles.”

“Starfire, just stop. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Her smile drops away. “Is it that easy to read me?”

He chuckles softly. “You always did wear your heart on your sleeve."

She flips her hair over her shoulder and begins braiding it, despite the fact that it’s full of sand. The chips of mica occasionally catch the light and sparkle. “When did you know?”

He takes his time with his answer. “I think, a long time. When I was little, it didn’t matter as much. I mean, I grew up in a circus-“ He chokes on the word, and has to remind himself that she’s seen the poster, the pictures, his parents wedding rings, “so nobody really minded. I remember one of the pony riders teaching me how to do makeup, and Louise showing me the correct way to lift weights.” He pulls up a memory, one of the best ones and stops, just for a second, from the emotion that wells up. 

“My mom, she, she bought me a skirt once. It was blue, and she said it matched my eyes. Dad was there, and he was laughing, but it wasn’t a ‘you look stupid’ laugh, it was a nice one, like his was giving his blessing or something.”

He’s rambling now, he realizes too late, but Starfire’s still listening attentively. “It sounds like you had a wonderful childhood.”

“Yeah. I suppose I did.” The ocean comes back, hissing softly to fill in the vacuum left by his story. “How do you do it? How do you deal with people getting you wrong, every day, all the time?”

She stops braiding and chews her lip. “I suppose it has merely become white noise. I do not know what I am, at least in human terms, but more what I am not. I am not a girl, I am not a female.”

“That’s certainly better then me. Some days are better then others. When I feel more like a boy, it’s fine, because that’s what I am, right? But sometimes, when I feel more like a girl, I hate it when people call me a guy, because it doesn’t feel right. Those times, I can barely take a shower because I hate my body so much. Then, poof, a couple days later I’m right back where I started.”

Starfire moves the boulder back to its original spot and sits down, further away this time. Neither one dares touch the other, too afraid to break the current of tension. To expose this much of themselves, it’s new, for both of them, and they don’t quite know what to do with it.

“Is there any way I can help? Perhaps referring you by a different name, or different pronouns-“

“No, and no. At least, not yet. Robin’s fine for now.”

Her face brightens, and she stands up. “I know what will help.” She offers him a hand. “Come on night patrol with me. Perhaps the sound of cracking jaws and justice will help clear your mind.”

He grabs her to help himself stand up. There’s a faint smile on his face at her offer. “I didn’t know justice made any noise.”

“Well, perhaps you should come with me and find out.”

They’re both smiling as she grabs him around the middle and launches herself in the sky, leaving a trail of sand behind.

It’s not much, but it’s a start.


End file.
